


a bit after a few years after the beginning

by sayonide



Series: yescanthropy [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayonide/pseuds/sayonide
Summary: Waverly, 5 years old, and the treehouse she'd built by the homestead.
Series: yescanthropy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063439
Kudos: 2





	a bit after a few years after the beginning

They didn't have a backyard, not technically. Their property was a large stretch of land, the result of too few people in too big a town. As a result of the forest weaving across a large section of the back half of the town, there were trees scattered around the Earp property.

One right near the back of the homestead was thick, tall and sturdy, with branches that grew out from just a few feet above the ground.

When she was 5 years old, Waverly Earp had begged Wynonna and their mama to help her build a tree house. She went to the library as often as she could, saving up whatever money she could to get nails and more planks, climbing up and down the tree even more than she usually would so she wouldn't have to use a rope or extra wood for steps.

Eventually, drawing out a diagram that was so safe even her mama couldn't say no, she brought planks outside, leaning them up against the far side of the tree where daddy couldn't find them. Slowly, day by day, she (well, she and mostly Wynonna but she did the directions) built it up, starting with the floor planks in the back and making a base before moving higher and higher, the walls and roof taking place quickly.

Every day, she'd sit on the bottom, a hammer and nail in hand as she nailed down the edges. Wynonna, when she was home on time, and mama when she wasn't, would sit under the tree (always refusing her offer to sit up with her, said it was safer if she was there as a safety net) and watch, occasionally pressing up a plank that was sagging down too far down for her to reach.

It took weeks to finish the sides, making sure it was stable enough that if Wynonna fell into it while climbing it would hold.

By the middle of the second month, she was sitting at the edge of half of a roof and nailing down the rest of it.

The tree house stretched around the base, almost ten feet in the air, the back of it hanging heavily away from the house and the front opening in the middle of a small hole in the branches.

Every day, she'd climb in, eventually dragging in books that their daddy was threatening to rip up, curling up next to Wynonna until their mama came out to call them to dinner.

One day, though, Willa found out. Willa always found out, always, and she _always_ took direct action. Wynonna said it was because she was oldest, and so daddy was stricter, but as far as Waverly was concerned, she was just old and mean and couldn't climb trees with the same ease as the two of them. 

So one day, Waverly came home from school and found Willa standing behind the homestead, cutting down the tree. Daddy would yell at her, build a ladder and maybe take down the books but never, ever go far enough to do _this_.

She ran up to Willa, gripping her back.

"What are you doing? Stop!" she cried out, shaking her as best a 5-year-old could.

Swinging around, Willa thrust the chainsaw in her direction, glaring down.

"You think you can tell me what to do?" she growled, stepping closer. Waverly backed away, staring at the running chainsaw and how close it was to her stomach.

"I- I'm sorry?" Waverly whined, tripping over a hose and pressing down into the wall.

Willa thrust the chainsaw closer once more, before turning back around and walking up to the tree, and Waverly watched as she hacked down the place she'd put so much effort into, and nearly cried when the books came tumbling down in the mess of broken wood.

Stepping over the mess of splinters, Willa raised the chainsaw just over the books and pressed down, and she did cry then, stumbling to her feet and running out of the homestead, towards where she knew Wynonna's school was.

She bumped into the wall next to her, gripping Wynonna's jacket in her fists and pressing in tightly, crying.

Wynonna, 11 years old and already so much better of a sister than Willa could _ever_ be, gripped her close, steered her away from the group of kids sitting there and curled up with her on the ground, pressing Waverly close to her chest, promising her that she'd never let Willa do something like that again, that daddy liked her enough to tell Willa not to. 

She knew it was a lie. Maybe she was five years old, but she wasn't stupid, and she'd seen daddy around everyone and he _hated_ them all. 

But her books. They might've been gone, forever, and it hurt to think about. So she curled up tighter, pressed a little tighter into Wynonna, and pretended that she was in a world where Willa and daddy and that stupid chainsaw didn't exist.

It almost worked.


End file.
